Evander flicked a finger and five orbs of light appeared above his head, illuminating the chamber with an azure glow. In front of him, a small mirror made of water magic appeared. Evander stared at the figure reflected in the surface. Short silver hair, blue eyes, ivory skin. Although tattered, his clothes appeared gaudy, with golden patterns embroidered on the chest. The frills at the hem reminded Evander of one of Leanne’s dresses.

A young man?

His mind was filled with thoughts and questions. He was sure he was dead. After resisting the curse by sheer magical strength alone, Evander’s mortal body finally crumbled and turned to dust. There was no mistaking that.

A snarl broke Evander out of his stupor.

“What are you?! There’s no way the incompetent son of the Marcus family is capable of silent magic!”

The boss unsheathed his sword. His men did the same. Sheathing sounds echoed inside the chamber.

“Grab him!”

On command, four men shot in his direction. After getting a feel of his body, Evander realized that the mana pool of his current shell was low. The magic he had just performed consumed almost half of his mana. Compared to his previous self, the magic capacity of this new body was like a drop in a lake.

“I still have some questions I would like to ask,” said Evander. “But the leader should be more than enough.”

Evander flicked his fingers and the orbs of light vanished, the flames on the torches dissipated, and darkness covered the room. Inside the darkness, he dealt blows to the assailants one after another. The boss could not see anything, but he shivered, realizing his men had been knocked unconscious.

The boss felt a hand grab his neck. In that instance, all of his strength left his body. He could not move. He wanted to scream but no sound came out.

“It’ll be a waste of time to ask,” said the voice within the dark. “I’ll just read your memories.” Read memories? There was no such magic! What the young noble just said was absurd, but the boss’s instinct was screaming otherwise.

“Now, sleep.”

Hearing those words, the boss lost consciousness.

***

Evander Alaester couldn’t get over his shock. By reading the relevant memories of the leader of the group, he learned that the current body he possessed belonged to a young noble from the House of Marcus. This young noble was well known for his hedonistic lifestyle. A conceited, invidious young man who would sexually harass every pretty woman he met along the way.

Memories read by magic were usually fragmented and incomplete; Evander was surprised that despite the limits of this spell, he was able to see so much information about his current shell’s notoriousness. It seemed the previous owner of his body was hated by everyone. A noble that used the name of his family as he pleased without regard.

Most probably, the true owner died in the hands of these guys, and for some unknown reason, Evander’s soul took over the body. It was a phenomenon he had never expected. After all, Evander did not believe in the afterlife; the same reason he kept seeking the elixir of immortality when he was young.

Who would have thought there was really a life after death? A re-do? Evander chuckled. “Amusing,” he said. “So, this is the Kingdom of Lukas, huh?”

He could not remember a kingdom with such name. Was this the same world but a different continent? A different timeline? Or maybe, a different world entirely? He shivered as he smiled in glee. His current shell was young, probably fourteen or fifteen years old. He would have a lot of time to explore this whole new environment.

Evander sat on a wooden box. Near him, the unconscious bodies of the five men lay on the ground. It was dark, but his eyes had already adjusted. He summoned a pebble-sized orb of light on his palm.

“Just as I thought.” Evander sighed. The magic capacity of his current body was small, almost nonexistent—that of a common person. The series of simple magic he had already cast consumed most of his mana pool.

If he was going to explore the secrets of this world, he would need a stronger vessel. Evander decided that he would first train this body in order to achieve his goal.

He heard footsteps outside. From the sound, Evander estimated there were more than two dozen men coming. He dispersed the pebble-sized orb of light on his palm and darkness once again filled the chamber. Using what remained of his magic, he amplified his senses. He soon heard the hushed voices outside.

“He’s still alive, right?”

“Of course. He should be. Lord Drakus will kill us if he finds out that his son died.”

“Be ready to charge on my signal.”

Evander realized that these men must be the ‘magicians’ mentioned by his assailants. They must be here to rescue him.

Evander couldn’t help but chuckle.

He stood from his seat, then lay on the ground, pretending to be unconscious. He did not understand why he was given a second chance in life, but he might as well enjoy it. For now, he decided to see where things would lead.

BAM!

The sound of the door breaking into smithereens reverberated. Wood splinters flew in all directions; the metallic lock clanked to the floor.

With his eyes closed, Evander could feel numerous presences enter the chamber. And they all halted at once.

“What the hell…”

“Who did this?”

There was momentary silence. They seemed surprised to find their enemies already unconscious.

“The young master’s here! Over here!”

Evander felt two large hands lifting him up. His eyes remained closed as he waited for things to unfold. He could not help but grin in anticipation. He had to admit: this was exciting.

“How’s the young master?”

“He seems fine. No injuries that I see.”

Ah! Damn it.

Evander almost bit his lip. He forgot that he had healed his whole body. It would be suspicious that there was not a single scratch on him. He reprimanded himself for not thinking of such an obvious thing.

“Thank God. Lord Drakus would kill us if something happened to his son.”

Evander sensed the heartfelt relief from the speaker. He felt someone gently slapping him.

This is it. I can finally play that role.

Slowly, Evander opened his eyes. He blinked, then looked around him.

“Young Master!”

Surrounding him were relieved faces of men and women. Unlike the guys from before, this group wore cerulean cloaks. On their chest was the emblem of a rose and a shield.

Evander pretended to be dizzy as he slowly sat up. “What happened?” said Evander.

“Young Master, I’m so relieved you’re safe,” said an old man with a monocle. He wore a brown vest and a matching bowtie. His ashen hair was neatly combed to the back. “We’ve been searching for you for days.”

He pretended to be familiar with the old man. “You finally came. I’ve been here for so long…” He looked at the unconscious men on the floor. He widened his eyes in an attempt to look surprised.

“They’re unconscious,” said the old man, his eyebrows creased, eyes grim. “Young Master, what happened here?”

Silence fell. Evander shook his head. “I don’t know.” The cloaked figures looked at each other.

The old man frowned. “But, Young Master—”

“Stop.” Evander placed a hand on his forehead. “I’m feeling dizzy. Take me back home.”

The old man closed his eyes and after a moment bowed his head. “Of course. You must be tired. As you wish.” He turned to the cloaked figures. “Escort the young master to the carriage. Ask the healer to examine his body.”

Five cloaked figures assisted Evander in getting up.

After Evander left the chamber, he amplified his senses again. He heard what was uttered inside the room.

“Sir Gaston, what should we do with these men?”

“I’ve spoken with Silver Hand. They’re unaffiliated small fries,” said the old man. There was not an ounce of empathy in his voice.

“Make them spill. All of it. The method doesn’t matter. Make them talk. You can kill them afterward.”

“Understood.”